Can't Force Love
by x.imagine.x
Summary: "Tasha and I are a good fit, though. Our relationship is easy, and nice. I know I can be comfortable in a life with Tasha, but I have to ask myself: Do I want comfort?" Dimitri has a choice to make. Oneshot of roof scene in Frostbite from his perspective


**A/N: So I'm rereading the entire series partly out of boredom, and partly because I just can't get enough of the awesomeness that is this series! So I was reading **_**Frostbite**_** and I came across the night of the royal party Lissa takes Rose to, and Rose and Dimitri have their little get together on the roof… And it just made me want to know what Dimitri's perspective was there. So I wrote it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters… and I don't own the dialogue further down. It's all property of Richelle Mead.**

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No matter how stubborn she is, no matter how headstrong and young and, in ways, immature she proves herself to be, the fact remains that I can't get her out of my head. She may be considered abrasive and opinionated, but that makes her who she is. She is fiery and passionate, loyal and protective, and in ways, this makes her much more mature than her age suggests. I can tell that she wants to be mature, yet she still has moments of weakness in which she slips into the defenses of a seventeen year old. For instance, I've never thought of Rose as someone who lets jealousy affect her as much as it does, although I guess I should have. She seems to be so many years ahead of the rest of her classmates that I forget she is still a student herself. When we're alone, she seems to be such a different person that I have to constantly remind myself that she _is_ my student, and I _am_ her teacher. The way she understands things almost instantly, the way she understands _me_, is frightening. I've never met anyone like her.

Watching her now from across the room, flirting with Adrian Ivashkov, I feel a flash of something stirring in my gut; something that shouldn't be there. As much as I hate to admit it, her tactics work, even if she doesn't use them intentionally. I'm supposed to be stronger than this; I'm supposed to be the responsible, mature one. Yet I suddenly feel compassion for what jealousy can do to a person. I shouldn't be jealous, though. I have more self-control than to feel jealous over Rose talking to Adrian Ivashkov, of all people. It's not like I have any right to be jealous, anyway. Just because Adrian's eyes are roving all over her body, no doubt appreciating the way the fabric of the dress Tasha gave her clings to her curves in just the right way, doesn't mean I have any right to do anything about it.

It's because of these thoughts I'm having right now, and because of where my eyes are directed, that I have to squelch these feelings. Tasha made me a very good offer, and I should to take her up on it if Vasilisa is to receive the best possible guard. It won't do anyone any good to have Rose and I working together; she's proven that in the past few weeks.

I pass my eyes quickly over the banquet hall I'm supposed to be watching, before turning them back to the one I'd rather be watching. She still stands there, and though she's casting an annoyed air, I can tell she's amused, whether she wants to admit it or not. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but Rose is drawn to Adrian, and it's definitely not a good thing. Apparently her mother agrees with me, because in the next second, the short red-haired woman stalks up to them and grabs Rose's arm, dragging her away from Adrian, who only looks amused at the entire interaction. Rose, on the other hand, looks severely annoyed. I can only imagine what's being said between the two as Rose is led from the room.

"There you are," A voice comes from behind me. Tasha.

"Here I am," I reply, a smile hinting at my lips.

Tasha is one of the rare people I know well enough to truly be myself with. It's nice not to have to hold back for fear of exposing too much, or giving the wrong impressions.

"Fun party," she comments drily.

I nod in agreement, "One of the best, I must say."

We chat for a few more minutes, and I notice Janine come back. Rose doesn't follow her.

"So…" Tasha's tone becomes serious, and I jerk my attention back to her, "Have you thought any more about my offer, Dimka?"

I smile fondly at the nickname, considering my answer. I have given this a lot of thought, truthfully. I've weighed my options countless times, and yet something always seems to sway each decision I make. I know what an amazing opportunity Tasha is giving me, and I also know that I could be happy with Tasha. If I look at it practically, there shouldn't be a decision to make at all. The decision should be instantaneous.

"I've given it some thought," I reply cryptically.

"And…?"

I hesitate, glancing through the room. I know what I have to do, what I should do. I should tell Tasha yes right now and get it over with. I need to make a decision.

"I haven't decided quite yet. It's an amazing offer, but… I made a commitment to Vasilisa," I say instead.

Tasha's face doesn't register the disappointment I know she must be feeling at my indecision. Her self-control and maturity add themselves to the mental 'pro' list in my head.

"I understand. I don't want you to make a rushed decision. I know it's a big change," She smiles, placing her hand on my forearm reassuringly. Her hand is warm, and I can get used to that.

I smile, "Don't worry; I'll let you know soon. Can you excuse me?"

She nods, squeezing my arm lightly before melting back into the crowd with a soft smile playing on the corners of her mouth.

All I can think about as I exit the banquet hall is that I need some air, and some space. I need to think this through and decide tonight. I like Tasha, and I like how I feel when I'm with her. I want kids. I want to be the best guardian I can possibly be. Tasha offers me the chance to fulfill all these goals. Tasha's laid back attitude about the entire thing impresses me. She doesn't jump down my throat and regards the entire thing with a cool maturity that only comes with age. Tasha has lived enough to know things Rose doesn't have the life experience to understand yet. She's entirely unselfish, and I know she'd understand in a heartbeat if I told her it isn't the right fit for me.

Tasha and I _are_ a good fit, though. Our relationship is easy, and nice. I know I can be comfortable in a life with Tasha, but I have to ask myself: Do I want comfort?

Do I want to settle for comfort with Tasha, even though I know it's the best option? Tasha and I, while we would be a topic of much debate, would be nothing compared to me and Rose, in all aspects of the statement. I know what I tell Rose, but the truth is that Tasha can't compare. I can't admit it, but Rose is fire and electricity. She knows me better than anyone else, and we've only known each other for a few months. It scares me.

And so I'm caught in a war with myself. A war over what is best.

Without realizing it, my feet carried me to a door at the top of the staircase I've been ascending. I'm not sure what lies behind the door, but I suspect some sort of roof. My suspicions are confirmed when the door opens to reveal a rooftop deck covered in snow. I move out of the door, thinking the deck is deserted. I want to just sit in the sun and think. I miss the sun.

Out of the corner of my eye, I sense movement, and immediately turn to see none other than Rose sitting on a snow-covered box from the ventilation system. She turns away when I meet her eyes, and I sense that I've intruded upon something.

Watching her sit there, arms wrapped around herself, I realize that Rose looks truly vulnerable; like a child, but at the same time not. Before I can stop myself, I'm walking toward her. As I grow closer, I can see her skin raised in goose bumps, and remove my coat, draping it around her shoulders. A gust of wind cuts through my thin dark shirt, but it isn't entirely unwelcome. Sometimes cold is just what a person needs; it brings perspective.

"You must be freezing," I say, sitting beside her.

"The sun's out," she states, but I know she's lying. Her mention of the sun brings me back to my earlier thoughts about how much I miss it, and I tip my head to let it wash over my face.

"It is. But we're still on a mountain in the middle of winter."

She doesn't reply, and silence falls between us. I note that I don't feel the need for constant chatter when we're together. Sitting in silence is just as effective as conversation.

"My life is a disaster," She deadpans, startling me.

"It's not a disaster," I respond without even having to consider it. No, Rose Hathaway's life is the furthest thing from a disaster that I can find.

She scoffs, "Did you follow me from the party?"

No point in lying. Part of me had been going to find her when I left the room. "Yes."

She looks over at me then, as if taking in my appearance for the first time since I sat down. "I didn't even know you were there."

Another moment of silence follows as she turns her face back toward the empty ski hills before she speaks again, "So you saw the illustrious Janine cause a commotion by dragging me out."

"It wasn't a commotion. Hardly anyone noticed," I reply, studying her profile as she gazes out at the remarkable view. The way the sunlight hits her face casts a luminous, beautiful glow on her features, and before I can stop myself, I add, "I saw because I was watching you."

It was a stupid thing for me to say, but she doesn't react to it. Maybe she has more self-control than I give her credit for. I know that had our positions been reversed, and I was the teenage girl, I would have called me on the meaning behind my words.

Instead her face hardens, and her next words come out bitter and resentful, "That's not what she said. I might as well have been working a corner as far as she was concerned."

"_Sonya__! Go upstairs and change. This instant!"_

"_What's the matter with what I've got on? I like it."_

"_What's the matter with it is it looks like you could be working a street corner in that skirt!"_

"_It does not, Mother!"_

"_Sonya__ Belikova! Now!"_

"_And if I don't?"_

"_Then it's just as well you end up pregnant."_

"_Please. I'm not going to end up pregnant."_

"_I've seen you flirting with those Moroi men who come around. That outfit sends the wrong impression. I don't want you to make the same mistake I made in picking the wrong man. Now go change."_

I repress the urge to shake my head in order to rid myself of the memory; it isn't one of the more pleasant ones. Yet maybe it is memories like these that enable me to better understand where her mother is coming from.

"She's just worried about you," I say. I know it isn't the response she wants, but it's the one that's true. Her prejudice against her mother prevents her from looking at this like she should, and I can't help but feel a sort of sympathy for Janine. I can tell from the past days that she is trying to reconnect with her daughter, but Rose isn't having it. Janine hadn't been ready for a child, and she wasn't prepared to be a mother when she had Rose, but from what I understand of the conversation, she's ready now.

"She overreacted."

I think back to my own mother, and the livid expression on her face that day. "Sometimes mothers are overprotective."

Her head whips around to stare at me, "Yeah, but this is _my_ mother. And she didn't seem that protective, really. I think she was more worried I'd embarrass her or something. And all that becoming-a-mother-too-young stuff was stupid. I'm not going to do anything like that."

The conviction in her voice and the fire in her eyes show her statement to be true. Her passion for something as small as this astounds me. Rose Hathaway is full of surprises, yet she also predictable. She doesn't give a second thought to Janine's motives. Her display of emotions leaves me just as confused as before.

_I don't want you to make the same mistake I made…_

"Maybe she wasn't talking about you," I murmur. Sonya had been furious with my mother that day, but it was because she knew our mother was right. Mothers do everything they do out of love, whether Rose wants to believe it or not.

Silence settles around us once more, and I can see her struggling with herself. She had all of these opinions and judgments of her mother, and now she has to question them all. I've just shattered what she took as truth all her life. I hope that she considers what I told her, but I know she won't easily change her mind.

Sometimes I think I know her too well, and that scares me. I'll never admit that, of course. It's not my place to burden anyone with feelings and all that stuff; it's not really my thing. I internalized everything for so long after Ivan died that I almost forget how to express myself. She's been a big part of me opening up again. I withdrew after the burn of losing my best friend, and I lost most of my other friends. I have a lot of acquaintances, but Tasha and Rose are the first people that I can truly consider to be my friends. Somehow they have both ended up being more than that. And now I have to choose between them. Maybe this is why I stopped getting involved with people; they all leave you at some point.

"We aren't fighting right now," Rose blurts out, startling me.

Her words amuse me, as much as I fight it. I cast a sidelong glance at her, "Do you want to fight?"

"No. I hate fighting with you. Verbally, I mean. I don't mind in the gym."

I try to contain the laugh bubbling in my chest at that. It's such a Rose thing to say. Instead, my lips lift in a half-smile. It's the best I can do to maintain as much composure as I can. "I don't like fighting with you either."

The momentary silence that follows finds me realizing that, for the first time since leaving the Academy, I feel truly happy. The resolution of this conflict between us feels as though a huge weight has been lifted, and I chastise myself for feeling so happy. I shouldn't feel this way; it's not right.

"You should take it." Her voice startles me.

Despite myself, I flinch. I have a feeling that I know what she's talking about, and I'm in no mood to rehash what we've been fighting about all week. "What?"

"Tasha's offer. You should take her up on it. It's a really great chance."

Like I said before, Rose Hathaway is full of surprises, but this one pretty much takes the cake. After everything she's said and done… "I never expected to hear you say anything like that. Especially after-"

"What a bitch I've been? Yeah." She pauses and tightens my coat around her shoulders, looking almost as if she's savouring a moment of calm before the storm, and I fear what her next words will be. "Well. Like I said, I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want us to hate each other. And…well… No matter how I feel about _us_… I want you to be happy."

Just when I think she can't surprise me any more than she already has. I am struck by how unselfish she's being, and I can see from her expression that this admission causes her a great deal of pain. I'm reminded of Tasha earlier in the evening, and how she hid her disappointment at my indecision. I'd rationalized choosing Tasha to myself by saying that she would set aside her own wants for my own, and now Rose is doing exactly that. I have no doubt in my mind that she will live with whatever decision I make, because that's what you do when you love someone. I remember my earlier thoughts of the unselfish maturity Tasha possesses can come only with age, but I now know I was wrong. Rose has that same maturity, it just isn't instinct for her to give in to it. It is the fact that she is doing something so foreign to her in telling me to do what makes me happy that displays perhaps a greater maturity than anyone gives her credit for. Janine had agreed with me when she said Rose acted young, but her words now are anything but young. Adults are unselfish because they know it is what they are supposed to do, even if they may not want to; teenagers are because they want to be, rather than reverting back to their usual petty instincts. When they do show it, it's one of the hardest things for them to do, and I can tell from Rose's face that she's feeling the after-effects of putting someone else's happiness before her own.

I reach out and wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. I sigh, "Roza…" I don't know what else to say, and so I say nothing. After a moment's hesitation she leans into me, resting her head just below my chin; a perfect fit. The embrace is nothing like what happened between us in the practice room. It's tender, and caring, and not about anything physical.

Sitting there with her, I realize that I can't force love. It's there or it's not, and if it's not, then I have to do what's right and admit it.

As she stands up and hands me my coat, I can see a new sense of maturity in her eyes. I believe she's come to same revelation that I have in these past few minutes, and it's this sense of oneness between us that makes us exactly what we are. I know now, watching her walk away, what my decision will be.

Staring out at the sun for the final moments before I return inside, I know what I have to do. She said that she was going to break someone's heart, and now I must do the same thing.

I have to tell Tasha no.

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**A/N: Ok, that was so much longer than I thought it would be. I was imagining like maybe 3 or 4 pages… but it turns out it was just over 9! Anyways, this was the first thing I've written for this series, and any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I'm a girl, so I struggled a bit with not making Dimitri too sappy and girly… hope he wasn't too soft! **

**Random question, but I just recently looked at how Lissa's name was spelled, And it made me wonder how do you pronounce it? Her full name is Vasilisa, and I pronounce that sort of like Vass-a-lisa. Yet her nickname is spelled Lissa, with a double 's'. This makes me wonder if it's supposed to be pronounced like Lisa, with the emphasis on the 'I', or like Liss-a, with emphasis on the 's' (like saying Alyssa). How do you guys say it?**


End file.
